


Abdominous

by FrozenLakeBeast



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Weight Gain, background McHanzo but not enough to be on that tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 17:23:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenLakeBeast/pseuds/FrozenLakeBeast
Summary: After Hanzo goes to Junkrat for advice, Junkrat begins seeing Roadhog in a new light and learns something about himself. Neither are adverse to it.Written for the FluffWatch Secret Santa.





	Abdominous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HexChub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HexChub/gifts).



> I don't know why I had so much trouble writing this but I did! That said, the exchange was a lot of fun!
> 
> I got frustrated with this because it kept turning out wrong and I wasn't using enough of the good words, so I wrote a dumb little blurb that's included at the bottom. That one does have the fun words.

They hadn’t been at Overwatch long when Junkrat was asked the question. It happened in the dining hall after a mission, while standing in line. That snooty stuck-up archer came up behind him and tapped his shoulder.

Junkrat stiffened and Hog looked back at him.

“I just have a question, it will only be a moment,” the archer said.

Junkrat was suspicious but went along anyway, nodding to Hog to stay in line, he’d catch up. Hog seemed equally wary, but went on ahead.

Hanzo guided Rat out of earshot from everyone currently in the hall, then said, “Your boyfriend is quite large.”

Junkrat bristled, ready for a fight. “Yeah, and?”

“How did he get so big?”

“The fuck kinda question is that?”

Hanzo put his hands up and took a step back in the universal sign of not-a-threat. “I’m just asking. Did you...help at all?”

Junkrat narrowed his eyes as he glared at Hanzo. “How would he need help? He does just fine eating plenty on his own.” Hanzo made no move to leave just yet, so he went on. “I make sure he has enough? I know he needs a lot and sometimes he gets embarrassed - _don’t_ tell anyone or I’ll blow your head off.”

Hanzo nodded, still keeping his distance. “So you didn’t help him get so big? You haven’t asked him to have a little more, or encouraged him to finish?”

Junkrat just stared, mouth agape.

“I’m sorry, I must have misinterpreted your relationship. I was only looking for advice, I apologize for interrupting you.” Hanzo walked out of the cafeteria.

Junkrat stared after him for just a moment before shrugging and getting back in line.

He started noticing things after that. Junkrat had never been particularly observant, but he began to notice people eating. He saw Hanzo and McCree together, all over, Hanzo always pushing food onto McCree. And he noticed Roadhog.

He noticed Roadhog _so much_.

Of course he payed attention to him before, he _was_ his favorite person to watch. But now he’d watch as he ate, as he got dressed, in the bathroom, when he slept - there was never a time when Roadhog was not at the forefront of Junkrat’s mind.

He found himself starting to encourage Roadhog to eat more, after another conversation with Hanzo. He’d sought the archer out that time, not caring that he was clearly intruding on something between him and the cowboy. “What did you mean when you asked how Hog got so big?”

The other two shared a look, McCree seated and leaning back in a chair, Hanzo poised above him with a pie. Hanzo spoke first. “Jesse has plateaued. We’ll never reach his goal if he keeps gaining so slowly.”

Jesse rubbed his stomach. “It’s fun. Feels nice.”

Junkrat just stood there, still confused since, really, no questions were answered. “What?”

“Watch,” Hanzo said, and demonstrated. He allowed McCree to continue eating, and rubbed his stomach while he ate. When the buttons began to pull, Hanzo deftly undid them to let Jesse’s stomach to fall free.

Junkrat watched, transfixed.

“It’s nice to feed someone,” Hanzo explained. “It’s fun to overindulge, and to see the results of it in the mirror and the scale and the clothes you help outgrow. Rubbing their stomach - their soft stomach, bared just for you - feels so intimate, as you ask them to just eat a little more, for _you_...”

Junkrat got the feeling that he wasn’t being spoken to anymore, and left.

 

Roadhog grunted as Junkrat piled more food onto his plate. “Thought you’d want more,” Junkrat said. He did, but he was confused. Rat didn’t usually push food on him unless he thought he hadn’t eaten enough. He’d been eating very well lately.

He’d also been wearing only sweatpants for the past few days, and they were starting to feel a little tight.

Something was up.

He remembered when a similar thing had happened before, back when he was around Junkrat’s age. He’d been goaded into relaxing, getting comfortable, eating as much as he liked - he’d gained 50 lbs before he realized what was going on, and another 80 afterwards.

He wondered how much he’d gained so far this time around.

Halfway through his after-dessert snack, he asked Rat what he was trying to do, if this was on purpose.

Junkrat immediately clammed up the usually shameless man seeming almost shy. “Do you like it?”

“Sure. Do you?” When Rat said he did and shared what he’d learned, Roadhog shared, too.

“O-oh,” Rat said, disappointed that he wasn’t the first. Roadhog thought he forgot, sometimes, that he’d lived half his life before the apocalypse.

“That doesn’t mean it was a one-time thing. *We* can still have fun with it.”

“Yeah, okay,” Rat said, and after that, they did.

 

Junkrat brought another plate of dumplings to the couch, where Hog lounged. He took up most of it, the seat sagging. He sat with his legs spread wide enough for his massive gut to rest between them. He rubbed what he could reach of his stomach, taking deep breaths to prepare for the next round. 

“One more!” Junkrat said, offering the plate. “Last batch. They’re still warm.”

Roadhog made no move to feed himself, bu didn’t wave it away either. Junkrat took the invitation to feed him instead. Roadhog obediently ate what was offered, fighting past the too-full feeling. Junkrat gave encouragement and praise the whole time, unneeded but nice. “I wonder how much you weigh now,” he said. Roadhog didn’t have the energy to grunt out a response, content in his overfull haze.

It was clear he’d gained weight, though. The seams on all his clothes were pulled to their maximum, always leaving angry red marks. Stretchmarks distorted his tattoo and showed up all over, and _everywhere_ was soft. He positively _spilled out_ of everything anyone tried to cram him into. He’d even taken to wearing his mask less, until he could get it modified to fit looser on his face. The straps dug in and the edges felt too tight, now.

“Right, right, not now,” Junkrat said, “Not that any scale can actually hold _you_. I’ll let you sleep it off.” He pat Hog’s stomach affectionately, which led to him rubbing it. He gave it a light pinch, then poked it to watch it ripple. Before he could give it a proper jiggle, his entire forearm and hand were swallowed up by Hog’s, and he was reminded that no matter how fat Hog got he was still fucking _huge_. “Right! You need to sleep it off. Sleep, sleep, we’ll have more fun later.”

 

~  
**Extra:**  
He eats another cake, and he feels his stomach _begging_ him to stop as it stretches, heavy and taut. The sweatpants used to have some give, but no more. He leans forward to get the last pack and - oh! - the seam on his inner thigh pops. He feels flesh spill out of the new hole as he opens the package and eats. He leans back to try to push the waistband down, but he can’t reach under his stomach while sitting. The pants are too tight to move, anyway.

Maybe to only way he’s getting out of these pants is by _growing_ out of them.

He takes a short break to send a text to his partner to bring more food. He’ll be disappointed he missed the show, but not the finale. He lifts his stomach, marveling at how big it is, how soft, how it’s all _him_. He falls asleep rubbing it, and that is what his partner walks in on, arms laden down with food.


End file.
